


Dear Swan

by Velace



Series: Random Moments [32]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Brief mentions of Hook, Even briefer mentions of Hood, F/F, Fluff, Mild Language, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 16:59:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6384799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Emma is injured in a bar fight and goes to Regina to be patched up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Swan

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to get the muse musing so I can update, but she's being difficult at the moment.

Fifteen minutes. Emma breathes in deeply and closes her eyes as her head falls against the back of the couch. She has fifteen minutes until Regina comes back downstairs to demand answers, and jack all in terms of plausible lies that Regina won't see through the second they come out of her mouth.

The truth is always an option, she supposes, but then Regina will likely excuse the confession as the drunken ramblings of an idiot before she laughs her right out of the house and back to the loft she shares, begrudgingly, with her parents.

Emma is many things; she is even the idiot Regina claims her to be on occasion, but she isn't delusional. The fact Regina was interested in someone like Robin is an all too clear indication that she is in no way her type. Emma would give her left leg—her right leg, her _arms_. Hell, she would carve out her heart and hand it over on a silver platter if she thought she stood even an iota of a chance, but she won't, because she doesn't.

They are co-parents, friends. She might go so far as to say they are best friends, but potential lovers? No. As many mixed signals as she's received from Regina over the years, she had accepted long ago that friends was all they'd ever be—and then Killian had to open his stupid mouth.

He isn't the one who hit her. He wouldn't dare, but he is the one who instigated the brawl she suddenly found herself in when some douchebag thought she needed rescuing from the attentions of her _other_ best friend. Tink had just dumped him, and Killian needed someone to get drunk with. Emma was used to his teasing her about being hopelessly in love Regina, but now that the town was open to outsiders, the morons piled in and were always coming to her _rescue_.

She's the _Savior_ , for shit sakes. She has magic. She could kick every single one of their asses without breaking a sweat. Instead, she has to hide who she is and what she can do, and let them all see her as some damsel in distress, which she _hates_.

Emma Swan saves people, she does not _need_ saving.

"Ready to talk?"

Emma cracks an eye open that darts to the entryway where Regina meets her gaze, brow raised, smirk cocked, and a first-aid kit held loosely in her left hand. "Nuh uh," she murmurs, lid fluttering shut as she shakes her head.

Regina chuckles and Emma can sense her moving deeper into the room, pausing beside the couch to stare down at her. She doesn't need to look to know there is a thoughtful expression upon her face as Regina silently argues with herself, wondering if she should push or give Emma more time.

Emma stifles a laugh at the latter. All the time in the world won't be enough to concoct a believable enough lie, not in her current state at least. She doesn't drink anywhere near often enough to have developed the kind of tolerance Killian has, and he likes to pile on the alcohol until she's drank enough to fell a herd of elephants.

 _Friends don't let friends drink alone_ is always his reasoning, and almost always leaves her with a hangover come morning. She doesn't mind, usually, but tonight is definitely not the night to open her mouth and let the stupid out.

"Turn your head," she hears the moment the cushion next to her dips and she does as she's told, lips twitching at the first brush of a finger against her cheek.

It throbs, a heavy ache that seems to lighten at the touch. Her skin buzzes pleasantly and she sighs again, leaning in to the touch as Regina cups her cheek, thumb stroking beneath her eye. They've been here a few times before, and Emma knows from experience that Regina had just taken away the chance of her injuries bruising. She will have to lie in the morning if anyone from the bar notices, but it will be worth it to not have to see the damage in the mirror.

"Thanks."

Regina doesn't say anything, simply hums an acknowledgement as the thumb moves to her lower lip. Emma flinches, more out of reflex than any actual pain. "Sorry," Regina whispers but Emma shakes her head and smiles outright.

The stretch irritates the cut on her lip and Regina tsks. "Now it's bleeding again," she says, pulling her hand back. Emma opens her eyes and watches as Regina pops open the first-aid kit. "Isn't there some law against the Sheriff getting into bar fights with the local rabble?"

"Maybe," Emma replies softly, "but they weren't local."

With another curious lift of an eyebrow, Regina dabs something cool against her lip and questions, "Another knight in shining armour?"

Resisting the urge to run her tongue over her lip to stop the tingling sensation now there, Emma snorts. "More like another idiot in tinfoil," she says and Regina grins.

"Killian's doing, I take it?"

Emma rolls her eyes and counters, "Isn't it always?"

"Why you are friends with that—" Regina starts but a hand on her thigh stops her short and Emma continues to smile at her. They have had the conversation more times than Emma can even remember, and it always ends the same; with a scoff and the familiar, _"With friends like him…"_ Emma looks forward to it, each and every time it happens, but tonight she doesn't have the energy to defend the man.

"We all have our quirks," she says instead, and squeezes her thigh.

Regina nods, conceding before she returns her attention to Emma's lip. Emma closes her eyes once more as silence descends on them. Her chest feels warm—full, and she knows by the heaviness of her thoughts that the alcohol is starting to wear off.

"Would you kill me in the morning if I fall asleep right now?"

There's laughter in Regina's voice when she drawls, "Why would I wait until morning?"

"Because you secretly love me," Emma mumbles, already feeling the pull as she sinks deeper into the couch. She's cognitive enough to worry at the sudden return of the silence, but not enough to realize Regina has leaned in closer until she feels the warm breath against her ear, and her body twitches.

"That's no secret, my dear swan."


End file.
